<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Ties + Binds by impossiblepluto</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23580541">Ties + Binds</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblepluto/pseuds/impossiblepluto'>impossiblepluto</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>MacGyver (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cairo Day 2020, Drowning, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Jack Dalton (MacGyver 2016), rescue breathing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:09:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,594</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23580541</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblepluto/pseuds/impossiblepluto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Cairo Day Six: The Ties that Bind</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jack Dalton &amp; Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ties + Binds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mac tugs against the ropes securing his arms to the solid oak desk chair. The knots biting into the skin on his wrists, raw and abraded. A drop of blood plops against the seat.  </p><p>A hand on his shoulder gives him small push and the chair spins lazily, giving Mac a view of the rest of the room, a second where he’s face to face with his captor before it keeps turning. Round and round. Taunting Mac’s helplessness. Clenching his fists he jerks his arms upward, searching for any give in the rope, in the wooden spindles</p><p>The cycling chair jolts to a stop, he’s pointed at the wall. The chair oscillates, back and forth, a few inches one way than the other. Then is slowly walked back so he faces the room again, with hands that are too warm against his body. His skin crawls. </p><p>Mac scowls. The tape across his mouth tugs as he mumbles a threat between tightly pressed lips. </p><p>“What was that? I can’t understand you? Speak up and don’t mumble,” Hazlett jeers. “You know, maybe I should take the tape off? Let you scream. Maybe that would chase your partner out in the open instead of hiding in the shadows like the coward he is.”</p><p>Mac lunges forward. Shoulders jerked back. Stopped by the ties that bind him. </p><p>Hazlett shakes his head. “Do you hear me, Dalton?” He crossed the office to the patio door, throwing it open wide. “If you give yourself up, I’ll let your partner go.”</p><p>Crickets, slowly chirping is the only response to his provocation.</p><p>He spins Mac again when he comes back into the room. Lurching to a stop, he grabs the back of the chair, dragging it behind him into the dark and the cool night air. </p><p>Goosebumps erupt on Mac’s skin. The chair bumps across rough concrete of the patio and Mac cranes his neck trying to see where he’s being taken. To figure out their destination and Hazlett’s plan. </p><p>The backwards momentum stops. Hazlett stalks around to face Mac again. "It's nothing personal. Your partner is just infuriating."</p><p>Mac shrugs. Jack can have that effect on people.</p><p>“Last chance, Dalton!” Hazlett puts his foot on the edge of the seat between Mac’s legs and nudges the chair backwards, the wheels squeaking. “Did you bring your swimming trunks?” </p><p>Mac’s eyes widen. He can’t yell. He can barely inhale.</p><p>There is a moment of weightlessness before gravity exerts its hold. Mac sucks in as deep a breath as he can before he hits the water with a splash. The chair drags him to the bottom of the pool. He struggles against the restraints. Chlorine burns his eyes and the broken skin of his wrists. </p><p>He forces himself to remain calm, slow his racing heart, contain his struggles, and not use up his precious oxygen. </p><p>He pulls uselessly against the ropes again. Quickly growing waterlogged and even impossibly tighter against his skin.</p><p>Mac tucks his thumb inside his fist, he'd take a few deep breaths, steeling himself, if he wasn't underwater. He clenches his jaw and jerks the joint out of place. A burst of air escapes through his nose, bubbling to surface as the shock of pain surprises him. He grunts fumbling with the ropes on his opposite arm, nearly exhales the rest of his air supply when his mangled thumb brushes against his arm. </p><p>Head pounding in time with his pulse. Lungs, demanding he replace the spent oxygen, throbbing in his chest.  </p><p>His vision grays and turns hazy. He gives up on trying to untie the ropes to free his other hand and makes another fist. The pain causes his vision to darken further. A shadow passes over him.</p><p>He pushes upward, legs still attached to the chair, but hoping he’s freed himself enough that he can stretch his head above the water, that the pool isn’t too deep. </p><p>The chair weighs him down. Swimming, frantic struggles to breach the surface and fill his lungs to no avail.</p><p>He dives back toward the bottom of the pool, fighting against the duct tape securing his legs. Tearing at the fibrous adhesive. </p><p>A rushing sound engulfs his head and his struggles slow. </p>
<hr/><p>Mac splashes into the pool and Jack’s heart follows him.</p><p>With a scream of fury, he leaps from the second story balcony, guns blazing. He's never going to second-guess wearing the thigh and chest holsters.</p><p>He’s still in the air when he takes out Hazlett with a double tap. Tucking and rolling as he lands, he kicks a patio table over onto its side, using it for cover. Rolling the tabletop with him as he edges closer to the side of the pool where he saw Mac disappear below the surface. </p><p>He knows there are four other men in the house. After observing them, there was only one he thought might present a challenge. That was before the jolt from his adrenaline-fueled wrath. </p><p>Henchmen one and two are quickly dispatched in a blink as they exit the house. Falling with synchronized thuds in the patio doorway. </p><p>Spinning on his heel, he fires at the balcony next to the one he jumped from and the third man tumbles to the ground with a sickening thwack.</p><p>The fourth…Jack scrutinizes the doorways and windows, tracing the roofline and the cover provided by the privacy hedge. He leads with his gun around the corner of the table, eyes scanning frantically for the last figure. </p><p>A jolt of pain ricochets through his arm as his gun spins from his grasp in a lucky shot. Lucky for him too, that only the gun was hit. Jack returns fire with his second gun, knowing that clip is nearly empty and that Mac must be out of air. He rapid-fires a hail of bullets at his target before he surges from behind his cover with a yell, throwing himself forward, grappling with the last man, taking him to the ground in a choke hold.</p><p>“Come on, pass out, you bastard,” Jack growls while watching the pool for surfacing air bubbles. Mac doesn’t have much time if he doesn’t breach soon. The man scratches at Jack’s arm. Reaches for Jack’s eyes and just when Jack thinks he might have to snap the guy’s neck, he goes limp. Jack drops him. His head cracks the concrete and Jack gives him a solid kick in the ribs for good measure before he plunges into the pool. </p><p>His heart seizes. </p><p>Mac is pliant, yielding in the water’s hold. Head bobbing. Blond hair flowing. Caressing his face, surrounding him like a halo of light and goodness. Backlit by the pool lights, Jack worries he’s too late. That Mac has truly become his guardian angel. </p><p>The weight of the chair keeps him submerged at the bottom of the pool. </p><p>Jack pulls his tactical knife, slicing cleanly through the duct tape. He hauls Mac into his arms. Pushing off the floor and propelling them upward with forceful strokes. He bursts through the surface with a gasp an powerful kicks. Cradling Mac’s head and keeping it above the water. </p><p>“Come on buddy,” Jack whispers. He flounders for a moment at the edge of the pool, heaving Mac’s limp body onto the patio. His arms shake as he lifts himself out of the water, pulling himself to hover over Mac.</p><p>Fingers frantically search for a pulse against Mac’s neck. “Don’t do this, Mac. Don’t do this to me.” </p><p>He sobs in relief when he feels the steady pulse beat against his fingertips but that relief is short lived when he realizes Mac’s chest is still. </p><p>He tears the tape from Mac’s face, the skin underneath reddened and excoriated. </p><p>Tilting Mac’s head back, Jack clamps Mac’s nose and places his mouth over Mac’s. Breathing out until he sees Mac’s chest rise. </p><p>He waits. Watching. Counting to six and then breathing air into Mac’s lungs again. </p><p>“Breathe. Please. Kiddo. Please.” Jack pants from exertion. From fear. </p><p>Another breath passes from Jack’s lips over Mac’s. He keeps his fingers firmly under Mac’s jaw. Proof of life. </p><p>“Please.”</p><p>The only breath in Mac’s lungs is what Jack gives to him.  Over and over. Eyes on Mac's chest for any movement, any sign that he's breathing on his own. On his blue lips, closed eyes, and pale cheeks. </p><p>A breath and another and another. Begging and pleading between each one.</p><p>“No. No. No.”</p><p>Not like this. </p><p>Not at all. Not ever.</p><p>Please. </p><p>He'll keep breathing for him forever, just... please...</p><p>And then Mac sputters. Coughing and choking. Chest spasming and water bubbles up out of his mouth and spilling over his cheeks. </p><p>Water spills over Jack’s cheeks too as he turns Mac onto his side.</p><p>Gasping. Loud, wet breaths resonate in Mac’s chest as he expels more water from his lungs. </p><p>“I’ve got you,” Jack murmurs into the shell of Mac’s ear, holding him steady. </p><p>Jack,” Mac coughs and spits up again. Hacking. One arm braces his chest as his other reaches for Jack.</p><p>“Right here, kiddo.” Jack smooths dripping blond hair out of Mac’s eyes. Wrapping himself tightly around Mac’s shivering frame. Rocking gently. Jack places his hand flat against Mac’s chest. The rattle of each inhale is disconcerting and he knows the kid will be fighting off a chest infection, but he’s alive. Each racing beat of Mac’s heart that pulses against his hand reassures him of that. Each short puff of panicked breath that brushes against his cheek. Mac is alive. And that’s all that matters. </p><p>“I’m right here. Always.” </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>